Father to the Fatherless
by Saoirse7
Summary: For years, Amanda has struggled with one of society's greatest issues-the lack of a father in her life. Can she find hope in the midst of pain? A fictionalization of the Casting Crowns song "Just Another Birthday." Rated T just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a fictional story I wrote based on Casting Crowns' song "Just Another Birthday," which deals with the importance of a father in a child's life. It will be in four parts, one for each verse/chorus of the song and one for the bridge. Some of the visual I obtained from the music video Casting Crowns posted.**

**And yes, this is the updated, lengthened version of a story that I posted, then removed, a little while back.**

"Amanda! Dinner's ready, sweetheart!"

"Coming, Mom!"

I hurried to shove my clothes into my drawer and smooth out my bed. Mom was picky about keeping the room clean, and I always did my best to please her. I caught a glimpse of a photograph on my dresser before I walked out the door, and paused a moment to pick it up and remember. It was the time that Mom and I had gone to Lake Michigan, just the two of us, and enjoyed a day at the beach. This picture was taken in Chicago in a cheap booth at Navy Pier, both of us with our biggest cheesy grins on, but I couldn't resist a smile as I gazed at it wistfully. That was before—I shook my head. No need to get into painful memories. Mom would be waiting downstairs, and personally I was eager myself to get down there—today was my birthday!

I could smell the hamburgers and hotdogs sizzling from the grill and, with every step I took, my mouth started watering more and more. As I passed through the foyer on my way to the kitchen, taking a moment to glance carelessly at the hall table, I noticed with great surprise a small bouquet of daisies—my favorite flower—sitting there. Brows furrowed, I stuffed my curiosity inside and instead walked into the kitchen, where my mom was pulling out paper plate and utensils.

"So, Mom, who sent the flowers?"

I watched as her shoulders stiffened and her lips pursed. "Amanda," she began, still not looking at me. "Those are from your father."

Now it was my turn to stiffen. My father? Why would he send me flowers? I frowned. "Is he coming to my party today, Mom?"

She sighed and gazed at me with sad, tired eyes. Eyes that had shed too many tears about this situation, without seeing any change. "I don't know, sweetheart. I talked to him a few days ago, and he was going to see if he could arrange his schedule to come."

My temper flared. "Arrange his schedule? Mom! I am not a business meeting! I'm his _daughter_!" I took two quick steps and palmed the back door open, letting it slam behind me as I sank down onto our patio. The tears threatened to come, but I stifled them, knowing that they wouldn't do any good. I heard the door swing open again, and the gentle footsteps indicated my mom, coming to calm me, coming to make me feel better, coming to make me feel _wanted_. I scowled. I didn't want to feel better. I just wanted my dad to be here.

"Honey, I understand. I know how important it is for him to be here for you. But it's going to be okay. We'll be fine, right?"

I didn't respond at first, the tears having moved to my throat and stolen my voice. Finally, I managed a nod.

"Okay, then, sweetie. Come on inside, and we'll have dinner. Don't forget, all your friends are going to be here in a half an hour."

"So we've got to put on our best smile and pretend like nothing is wrong," I finished in a bitter tone, and I heard her sigh.

"Amanda, come on in. We can talk about this later, okay?"

I rolled my eyes, but kept my back to her so she wouldn't see. Later. Always later. Never now, when the problem had reared its ugly head. Later would be when we had both calmed down enough to carry on a sensible conversation. And, inevitably, later would be when enough time had passed since the wound had been reopened that neither of us really wanted to talk about it anymore. I let out a deep breath and stood up, plastering a fake smile to my face as I did so. "Okay, Mom. I'm starved. How 'bout some hamburgers?"

A smile flashed across her graceful features, and I knew that she was right. For the moment, we were going to be just fine.

xxxxxxx

"Make a wish, Mandy!"

I grinned as I blew out all the candles on my delicious-looking cake. I knew that Mom had slaved for hours to make it, and every detail was just the way she wanted it. As soon as all the candles were out, my best friend, Kayley, leaned over with a laugh.

"So, Mandy, what'd you wish for?"

My eyes twinkled. "I can't tell. If I did, then it wouldn't come true!"

Several others around the picnic table nodded and laughed, and another girl spoke up. "It's about Derrick, isn't it?" she asked loudly, and the entire group erupted in giggles.

I smiled, too, but I knew that it didn't quite reach my eyes. No. Of course it wasn't about Derrick, even though he was the cutest guy in the neighborhood, and every girl dreamed about him asking them out. But the only guy I wanted in my life right now was the one who wasn't here, but who should be. I was wishing for my daddy to come home.

Glancing over at my mom, I noticed that she was near the patio on the phone with someone, talking animatedly. The conversation didn't seem to be going well, and instinctively I knew that it was my father. My eyes narrowed, but I struggled through keeping up a good front for all my friends from school and church. Vainly looking for something I could fix my eyes on, rather than the conversation that I wanted to watch, I scanned the table, which was loaded with the cake, ice cream, and a dozen or more presents. My gaze locked on the stack of gifts, only to notice that at the top was a small gift, addressed to me from my dad. I sighed, and my vision slid back over to my mom, just in time to see her talk for a moment, then hold the phone out in disgust and glare at it: he had hung up. My face dark, I grabbed the tiny gift he had sent me and stalked over to our porch swing. At first, I didn't even want to open it, but I knew that my curiosity would inevitably get the better of me eventually, so I might as well get it over with now.

Gently, I tore the tissue paper and lifted the top off of the small cardboard box. Inside was a necklace, the pendant of which was a silver cross. I rolled my eyes. Who was he to give me a cross? Like he was some good Christian?

I sat back and frowned, remembering a more innocent time, when he used to swing me up in the air and catch me, holding me tightly in his arms. What I wouldn't give to go back to those days sometimes. But for now, I just had to buck up and keep going. Like Mom always said, I was going to be fine. Just fine.

**Thanks for reading! Thoughts? I would love to hear your opinion of it!**


	2. Chapter 2

I stared at the test in my hand, a cold knot settling in my stomach and tightening there. Positive. Absolutely, undeniably, disturbingly positive. My head slumped back against the bathroom wall, and I slid down it slowly, ending in a trembling heap on the floor. Hot tears burned against my eyelids, spilling over and leaving what felt like steaming trails down my cheeks. This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.

_If you had been here, Daddy_, I screamed silently. _I wouldn't have felt like I needed to find acceptance elsewhere._

Derrick was a nice guy. At least, he was always nice to me. I had heard him talking to other guys, and he tended to be rude and sarcastic, even if he was just messing around. But I turned a deaf ear to it, and when he asked me out, I accepted. Wistfully, I remembered the months that I had been the envy of all the girls.

Struggling to my feet, I dumped the test in the trashcan and smoothed my hair in the mirror. Surely Derrick would understand. After all, this wasn't just my problem. Half of this was his fault.

I grabbed my cell phone as I headed into the kitchen and pressed his speed dial, drumming my fingers nervously on the table. It rang three times, then went to voicemail. I frowned and hung up, tears stinging my eyes again.

A text message buzzed into the phone, and I saw that it was from my boyfriend. I pushed "accept".

"Baby, I'm sorry, but I'm busy right now. What do you need?" it read, after translating the text lingo.

I narrowed my eyes and made a disgusted face, almost without realizing it. He was always busy lately. Never had time for me. Well, that was how it seemed, anyway. Dark thoughts threatened to come in, threatened to poison our relationship. I shook my head and tried to clear it, but those worries and insecurities infiltrated anyway.

Blinking through my tears, I managed a text message in reply. "Nothing. I was just hoping we could get together sometime." I swallowed convulsively, pausing a moment. Should I write it? Sucking in a deep breath, I continued. "There's something I'd like to talk to you about." Pressing "send," I sat back and waited. I didn't have to wait long. The phone came alive with his ringtone, only this time it was a call, not a message. My heart skipped a beat. Had he guessed already? With trembling fingers I accepted the call. "Hello?"

"Hey, Mandy, what's up?" His greeting sounded normal, but I thought I detected a note of something I couldn't quite name behind his tone. Something that didn't sound very friendly.

I swallowed again, trying not to cry while we were on the phone. "Oh, hi, Derrick. Um, nothing, really. I just wanted to talk some things over with you."

The line went silent, and I thought for a moment that he had hung up. He hadn't. "Mandy, those words are never a good thing in a relationship. What's going on?"

A forced laugh erupted from my lips. "Nothing really to worry about." I crossed my fingers behind my back as I said it, but continued. "It's just not something I'd like to talk about over the phone. Can we meet somewhere?"

Now I could definitely hear the frustration under his words. "Yeah, sure. But I hope you're right that it's nothing to worry about." He left that hanging ominously between us.

"Um, right. No, of course not. I just—uh—no, nothing to worry about. How about we meet at our park in say, oh, I don't know, a half hour?" A half hour should give me enough time to compose myself and decide how in the world I was going to tell him the awful news.

"Yep, sounds great. See ya then. Sorry, babe, I really have to go. Catch ya later." And then he hung up. I hadn't said a word.

xxxxxxx

Thirty minutes later, although it had felt like two or three hours, I showed up at the park, the one we had termed our own because of how much time we had spent there. I fought through the memories that haunted every alcove, every open expanse of grass and life, every inch of the walking path. Shaking my head slightly, and wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans for probably the tenth time, I sighed. Now was not the time to get lost in the trek down memory lane. There were much more important things at hand.

He was already there, leaning casually up against a large oak. The smile that he gave me when our eyes met was almost more than I could take, and it sent waves of warmth down my spine. Okay. I could do this. He loved me. It wouldn't ruin our relationship.

I continued to repeat that to myself as I tripped over the grass to him, and thrilled to how he swept me up in his arms. Leaning against him for a little while longer as I let his solid warmth infuse me, I grinned to myself. Yes, this was how I wanted to live my life. Accepted, wanted, _loved_ by someone who honestly cared about me.

Much too soon, he pulled back. "Alright, Mandy. Now what is it?"

Fighting to not be hurt by his brusque tone, and blinking back tears for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day, I forced myself to gaze into his dark eyes. "Derrick—" My voice came out like a squeak. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Derrick, do you remember the first time we came to this park? How long it took us to make it all the way around on the walking path because we kept stopping to see something different?"

His expression clouded over with confusion, and his nose wrinkled just slightly. "Yeah. Why?"

I took his arm as I pointed over towards the great oak tree that we had spent so much time under, trying to look past his dismissive tone. "And over there, we were going to carve our initials in that tree, but then you looked up the penalty for destruction of what was considered public property." In spite of my nervousness, I couldn't repress a giggle. "We certainly weren't going to do it after that."

The memories that I was carefully unpacking and laying before him finally drew out one of his characteristic grins, and I felt the knot in my stomach uncurl, just a hint.

Finally, after I had reminded him of several instances of how much we enjoyed this park, he broke in. "Mandy, of course I remember all this. What are you trying to get at? Is there any reason you're just now bringing up all the good times we've had?"

"Is there a problem with bringing it up, Derrick? Why does it matter? Why can't I talk about it?" I realized belatedly that my tone sounded more hurt and irritated than I'd expected it to, and I looked down quickly, blinking against the emotions.

I felt his arms slip around my shoulders, and I melted against him. "Ok, babe. What's going on?"

"It's just—it's just…" I trailed off, and he squeezed me a little bit closer. "I'm pregnant, Derrick."

There it was. In all of its ugly truth. That hadn't been the way I'd wanted to tell him; but, then again, I hadn't really figured out how I'd wanted to tell him, anyway. As far as that went, I supposed just blurting it out was as good a way as any.

The instant the words left my mouth, his grip on my shoulders grew almost imperceptibly tighter, then went slack. He stepped back, dark eyes wide, jaw tense.

I reached up to stroke his cheek, and he almost flinched away from my touch.

When he spoke, he wouldn't look at me. "Mandy, uh, that's great. I mean, I'm sorry. But, I suppose I needed to tell you anyway…"

I stared at him in disbelief, my brain only catching fragments of what he was saying to me. Another girl. Not in love. He was sorry.

_I don't want your apologies!_ my mind screamed. _I want you to love me! What happened to forever?_

Finally finding my voice again after being struck speechless by his admission, I managed out a few words. "Well, what about—what about—oh, you know?"

He cut me a sidewise glance, brows raised. "I hear there's a great clinic down the street that would be happy to help you with that," he muttered. "It's not exactly my problem."

At that, I couldn't take it anymore. "Not your problem? Derrick Taylor, half of this is your fault! How can you say this is not your problem?"

He shrugged, and I saw that cocky attitude he was so known for. "It's not," he told me simply, and walked away.

I couldn't say anything as he disappeared into his car and drove off down the street.

**Thanks for reading! I hope you'll let me know your thoughts!**


	3. Chapter 3

My fingers trembled as I tried to fit the key in the lock, probably because of the good cry I had indulged in, sitting in the apartment parking lot. I just couldn't take it any more. Undoubtedly, my emotions were all out of whack because of the pregnancy, but even still. Today was my birthday, for Pete's sake! Today was the day I was supposed to be pampered and loved, right? Not shattered by an unwanted pregnancy and unexpectedly dumped by my boyfriend in favor of another girl. I took a shaky breath, fighting tears once more.

Finally managing to open the door, I tossed my purse onto the table, starting to head towards the bedroom when a beep from my phone drew my attention back. It took a few minutes to fish through my purse to find it, but I did and pulled it out to find a missed call from my mom. A sigh escaped, and I punched the buttons to listen to the voicemail.

"Hi, honey! Happy birthday! I hope you're having a wonderful day. Call me back, okay, sweetie? I miss you. Okay, um, well, I suppose I'll be going. Love you, Amanda. Happy birthday."

I quickly saved the message and pressed the end call button as the automated voice kicked in. Call her back? And talk about what? Ever since I had moved away to college, I knew that my calls were getting less and less frequent. But life had hit, and hard, unfortunately. I groaned and flopped back in my chair. Why did everything have to get so complicated so quickly?

"Sorry, Mom," I muttered, acting like I was actually talking to her. "Can't talk right now because I'm a blubbering mess. Oh, did I mention I'm pregnant? And just got dumped by my boyfriend?" The boyfriend she'd never met? "Yep, my birthday's going just dandy." I couldn't keep the sarcastic, bitter edge out of my voice, and my hand barely flew up in time to catch my head, plummeting toward the tabletop. She would be so disappointed to hear that Derrick and I had been messing around. No, I couldn't tell her. Couldn't call her back. I dropped the phone back into my purse and hurried away.

xxxxxxx

Monday came much too soon, and I couldn't help but feel as though everyone saw my scarlet letter as I walked down the hallway. Almost subconsciously, and yet protectively, I wrapped my arms around my abdomen.

"Hey, Mandy! What's up?"

I whirled to see one of my best friends, Amity, standing by the water fountain with a huge grin on her face. I couldn't help but grin back. I loved how she was always so glad to see me, regardless of the mood I was in, and generally, her enthusiasm was contagious.

"Hi, Am. I'm doing alright. How about you?"

She flashed me one of her characteristic smiles. "I'm doing fabulous, hon. Just fabulous. Hey, did I tell you? My sister is going to have a baby!"

I felt my face blanch, and I forced a smile, knowing that her older sister and her husband had wanted a child for some time. "Oh, that's great! Tell them I'm happy for them." I hoped my voice didn't sound as strained as it seemed it did.

"Oh, I sure will. Can you believe it, Mandy? I almost screamed when I found out. Do you think—" She cut off abruptly, and I shot her a sidewise glance, having been unable to make eye contact during her monologue. To my surprise, she was staring at me with a shocked expression.

"What?" I mumbled, unable to shake the thought that the look on my face had given everything away.

"My goodness, girl. What's wrong?"

I managed a wan smile. "Wrong? Why should something be wrong?"

"Amanda, you look terrible! Did you sleep alright last night?"

"Can you keep your voice down?" I hissed, feeling like I was going to be sick and afraid that the shriek in her tone was going to draw way more attention than I needed at the moment.

"What is wrong with you?" she whispered, having lowered her voice, though the genuine concern was still coloring her words.

"I don't want to talk about it, Am. I'll tell you later," I muttered.

She continued to watch me, eyes wide. "Okay," she replied softly, and I knew she would let it go—for now. Gently steering me towards our first class, she leaned over for one last comment. "I'm here, whenever you need me, Mandy. Just remember that."

The only response I could muster was a terse nod, wondering why I was still left with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

xxxxxxx

It seemed like the day could not go on any longer, but my last class was finally over, and I gathered my things quickly to head back to my apartment. Deciding to take the quieter, yet longer, walk to my car, I moved briskly along an outdoor corridor.

Suddenly, to my surprise, I noticed that I was not alone in the passageway. There, leaning against the brick wall, stood Derrick. My emotions immediately betrayed me as my heart leaped at the very sight of him.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, a smile I could not control lighting up my face. Maybe he had changed his mind, maybe—

He barely acknowledged me, and all my hopes and dreams came crashing down once more, along with them the stark remembrance of our last conversation.

"Derrick!"

I heard a squeal to my right, and a petite blonde ran in to meet him; I couldn't help but avert my eyes as he swooped her up in his arms, just like he'd done to me all those times. Biting my lip to hopefully stay the tears, I watched them walk away, arm in arm, and remembered all the things he'd promised and would never be.

xxxxxxx

"Sarah Martin?"

I saw the blonde with wide blue eyes two seats away from me nod her head slightly, and get up to follow the assistant into the back room. My mouth went dry—again, and for the third time in the past five minutes I wiped my palms against my jeans. I felt sick to my stomach, but knew that I couldn't go anywhere. Not if I ever wanted to show my face in public again. My name would be called soon, and then it would all be over. The shame, the hurt, the guilt. All of that would be sucked away with this—what did they call it? Blob of tissue? I took in a deep breath, hoping to calm my nerves. It didn't work.

The door wasn't far. I seriously considered a dash through it—and then I thought of my mom's disappointment and of the abandonment by my friends that had only begun with Derrick. Not even Amity, if she knew, would stand by me if I told her my secret.

"Trisha Steeley?" Another girl exited the room.

Much too soon, the assistant returned. "Amanda Bryant?"

I nodded and swallowed convulsively, standing and willing my legs not to turn to jelly. My turn. She led me from the lobby area to change into a sterile hospital gown, then directed me to what might be considered the operating room. I tried not to think about it.

The doctor smiled as I walked through the door, probably to attempt to seem friendly and calm my nerves. It the situation hadn't been so tense, I might have laughed out loud. This man smiling at me was not comforting in the least, since he was about to kill whatever was inside of me. His assistant had me lie down on the table, and fit my feet into the stirrups while the doctor explained their censored version of the procedure to me. She began to stroke my cheek, my hair, as tears started to stream down my face.

_Jesus, if You can hear me, I'm sorry. I don't want to do this. I don't want to kill this child. Can You heal my hurts? Can You come and be a Father to the fatherless? Please come..._

As soon as my mind spoke those words, I felt an overwhelming peace wash over me, and I knew I had to get out of here. Without thinking or asking, I sat up, getting off of the table. "I can't do this," I told the two others in the room, my voice catching in my throat. And without looking back, I walked out.

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	4. Chapter 4

"Make a wish, Sarah!" I blew out the one candle on the tiny cake and cheered, watching with pleasure as my little girl's face lit up.

"Mommy, guess what! I wished for—"

"Shh!" I quickly put my finger over her lips as my eyes opened wide in mock surprise. "You can't tell, or it won't come true!"

She giggled and wrapped her arms around my waist. "I love you, Mommy."

The smile that spread across my face was quick and broad, my heart melting again at her sweet spirit. "I love you, too, sweetie. You're Mommy's princess, did you know that?"

Her innocent laughter echoed across the park as she nodded enthusiastically. "I know, Mommy. You told me."

I pulled her close. "And don't you ever forget it."

Being a mother at nineteen hadn't originally been in my plans for my life, but, as I looked back over the past two years, I knew that I wouldn't trade it for the world. My little Sarah Grace had been the greatest blessing I had ever known, and I paused a moment to thank God for her. I remembered the many instances of His faithfulness, even at my lowest moment, when I almost let others take my beautiful child away from me.

Shaking my head to clear the painful memories of the abortion clinic, I thought instead of the months afterward. Naturally, my mother hadn't initially been very happy when I told her the news, but she ended up being more supportive than I ever could have dreamed. It was actually through her encouragement, when it came down to deciding what I was going to do with this child, that I chose to keep her instead of going the way of adoption.

And Amity. My smile grew at the thought of my friend. She had been so much help both during the pregnancy and afterwards. Like she promised, she was there for me every step of the way. I could call her any time, night or day, and she would listen. When I dropped out of college because the situation became awkward, she came over almost every afternoon, just to keep me company. She went with me to the delivery room, and Sarah called her "Auntie Am."

I sucked in a quick breath. It was likely that I wouldn't be anywhere near the place I was today if not for her.

My daughter's small voice interrupted my woolgathering. "Bet you can't catch me!"

"Oh, yeah?" I giggled and began to chase her. She squealed and dashed away, and I allowed her to be one step ahead of me. That is, until she chanced a quick look behind her, and then I swept her up and spun her around. Her delighted laughter reminded me all over again of how precious she was to me.

Together we walked over to one of the large rocks that could be considered decoration for the park.

"I have something for you," I murmured. "A birthday present."

Her eyes lit up and her smile broadened.

Carefully, I pulled out a small box, wrapped in vivid paper, and handed it to her. "Happy birthday, sweetie."

She tore off the paper and discarded the lid, pulling out the one thing in there. A simple silver cross necklace. The one my father had given me. Sarah gazed at it in awe, her eyes growing wide. I helped her put it on, and she hugged me tight, her thanks spilling over.

It looked good on her, and it warmed my heart to see her wearing it. I thought again about how faithful and true the Father had been to us, and how my earthly father's gift was now able to bless the most wonderful gift I had ever been given. How fitting.

xxxxxxx

We spent the rest of the day at that park, the one that held so many memories. I counted while she hid in hide-and-seek, she clambered all over the decorative rocks with me by her side, and together we lay on the field and decided just what the fluffy clouds looked like at that moment.

By the end of the afternoon, we were exhausted, but I couldn't remember a time better spent.

And, as we walked home, I thanked God for the life He had given both of us, by being a Father to our fatherlessness. With Him by our side, we were going to be just fine.

**Again, thanks for reading! It's good to see joy and smiles in Amanda's life once more. :) Please review, even if it's only one word!**


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